


Kakizome

by plumtrees



Series: UshiShira Week 2017 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, New Years, Pillow Fights, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Sleepovers, shiratorizawa antics and everyone lowkey shipping ushishira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plumtrees/pseuds/plumtrees
Summary: Day 1 for UshiShira Week: New Year+"Intense Force"-Beside him, Shirabu’s brush continued to move smoothly over his paper, slow and steady despite Semi and Tendou’s impromptu drama just across them. His kanji are evenly spaced, cleanly-stroked and precise, and unlike with Tendou’s, Ushijima read the phrase out with no trouble at all.“A skilled hawk hides its talons.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm posting this _super early_ to promote [UshiShira Week 2017](http://ushishiraweek.tumblr.com) happening on **Feb 5-11**! Please do check this event out and participate if you're a fan of this super lovely but super underrated ship! All the prompts are amazing too! Go, go, go!
> 
> Timeline: New Year of the year before events of canon. Meaning, Ushijima and the rest of the seniors are still in 2nd year, Shirabu and Kawanishi are 1st years, Goshiki ain’t around yet. This is around January 2 so it’s after the prefectural representative playoffs but before Spring High Nationals.

“Eh?” Tendou whined, tilting his head like it would help him read Ushijima’s kanji. Ushijima was about to flip his paper over for him, but then, “ _Intense force_? Man, can you take a second to _not_ think about volleyball?”

“My apologies.” Ushijima said, even though he was sure there was no agreement about their kakizome being restricted to certain themes. “Should I start over?”

Tendou flapped his hand dismissively but his cheeks were puffed out, lips puckered in clear distaste. 

“Nah, then it wouldn’t be your first writing anymore.” Like a switch, his face lit up immediately, cheeks deflating with a whistle from the air passing between his tooth gap. “Well it’ll be fun to burn it though, so you better keep it.”

“To be honest, some kakizome on this table needs to burn more than Wakatoshi’s does.” Semi dryly commented, finishing his own kakizome with one last theatrical stroke. Ushijima thought it wise not to mention how the stroke ended up longer than it should be. Based on Semi’s sudden frown, it seemed he was well-aware.

“Eh?” Tendou chirped distractedly. Reon’s flawless kakizome sat unattended while he and Soekawa had gone to fetch them snacks, and Tendou’s gaze jumped between it and the calligraphy brush in his own hand, still dripping ink. Ushijima nudged him under the table in warning.

“I meant yours, you overgrown starfish.”

Honestly, Ushijima would be thankful for Semi’s unparalleled work in the field of _keeping Tendou in line_ if only his methods weren’t so…destructive. And loud.

Predictably, Tendou squawked, grasping his chest like he was in real, physical pain, wailing like an infant in distress. “Semisemi, why you gotta play me like that?”

Ushijima frowned, eyeing Tendou’s paper. It wasn’t…that bad? Ushijima squinted, trying to identify where the first kanji ended and where the next began. _Ushi—no. Go…zen?_

Ushijima blinked and sat back. Perhaps Tendou was employing one-stroke calligraphy in his kakizome.

Beside him, Shirabu’s brush continued to move smoothly over his paper, slow and steady despite Semi and Tendou’s impromptu drama just across them. His kanji are evenly spaced, cleanly-stroked and precise, and unlike with Tendou’s, Ushijima read the phrase out with no trouble at all.

“A skilled hawk hides its talons.”

Shirabu suddenly froze, nodded, and stiffly placed his brush back onto its rest. From what he knows of Shirabu’s personality, it’s fitting. He was just a first year but already Ushijima could see the potential in him. He was quiet and reserved, absorbed instruction like a sponge to water, and more than once Ushijima caught him staying behind to practice his tosses, the lights reflecting off the bandage clips on his fingers. They’ve been partnered together for spiking practice more than once, and his tosses were steady and consistent, much more comfortable to hit than Semi’s.

(He’d told him as much, once after a practice match, but he only looked dazed, unable to reply; from fatigue perhaps, but he’d refused Ushijima’s offer to drink from his bottle, or even accompany him to the infirmary.)

He looked just about the same right now, very clearly averting his eyes and knees shuffling against the cushion he knelt on.

Before he could think on it any further, Tendou’s hands slammed flat on the table, long arms stretching far enough to hook on the edge opposite from his.

“Ah, just look at you two. Little seeds of romance blossoming in the savannah. The team will be thrilled, _ack_ —”

“Why are you talking like that? It makes you sound like an old man.” Semi sneered, drawing back the foot he’d kicked Tendou with. Ushijima glanced to Shirabu, hoping for clarification on the situation, but his cheeks were dusted red, eyebrows knitted, and hand poised around his brush like he would have thrown it at Tendou had Semi not intervened.

“ _Your clothes_ make you look like an old man.”

“What are you _five_?!” Semi roared, diving to possibly strangle Tendou, if his clawed hands were anything to go by. Shirabu sighed and turned away. Yamagata screeched in outrage when they bumped into him, completely ruining the final kanji on his kakizome. He kicked Semi’s and Tendou’s tangled legs out of his space, pushing them in Kawanishi’s direction. He only rolled his eyes to heaven, probably wondering what he did to warrant this.

“I leave for a few minutes...” Soekawa gasped in exasperation at the chaos that greeted him, Reon chuckling behind him with a tray of refreshments. Soekawa deposited the snacks on the table, careful to avoid the calligraphy paraphernalia, and Tendou immediately pushed Semi off of him with a cheer, greedily grabbing for the Choco Pie.

“Don’t look at me like that. This is grape juice.” Reon assured when Ushijima shot him baleful glance over the plum-red liquid he poured and was now passing down the table.

“That’s not really reassuring, considering wine is also grape juice.” Yamagata mumbled, sniffing his drink.

“ _Fermented_ grape juice.” Kawanishi pointed out, elegantly swirling his glass, wrist twisting easy and precise and for a second Ushijima was reminded of that one time he witnessed a certified sommelier in action.

Reon passed him a glass, which he passed down to Shirabu beside him. Shirabu seemed twitchy, nearly dropping the glass when their fingers brushed, but he managed to get the glass to Soekawa and take his own without much fuss.

“Shall we all make a wish for the new year as we toast?” Reon suggested, holding up his drink.

“To have more cute freshmen in the club!”

Semi smacked Tendou’s arm for that, then followed up with _to get stronger_. Yamagata’s was _to stop losing stuff_ , and Soekawa followed up with _luck and guidance for their final year in high school_ which most of the seniors crowed about (Ushijima didn’t know why. It was the truth after all).

When Shirabu’s turn came up, Yamagata mumbled something—strangely enough, Ushijima thought he’d heard his name—which caused Shirabu’s mouth to snap shut, eyes narrowed in warning at his senior. Soekawa laughed nervously and patted Shirabu on the shoulder. Hm. He never recalled them being quite this close.

“To get taller.” He finally said, mood significantly darkened. 

“A healthy and prosperous year for everyone.” Ushijima said, and Reon ended with _to stop acting like an old man_ which Tendou clicked his tongue at in approval, flashing Reon a finger gun.

“To the new year!” they all toasted, with varying degrees of enthusiasm, Tendou exaggeratedly knocking the juice back like it was alcohol.

As soon as the toast ended, Reon stood, recruiting Semi and Tendou to help him arrange the living room so that there would be enough space for those not sleeping in Reon’s bedroom. They pattered out eagerly, discussing whether a horror movie before lights out would be a wise idea. Soekawa was already sidled up beside Yamagata, the libero asking him if his kakizome was still legible even with the ruined stroke. Kawanishi was collecting the calligraphy brushes, taking them out to wash in the bathroom.

There wasn’t much left to be done after that, though Shirabu was back to restlessly shuffling his knees, eyes darting like they were searching for something to do.

“Is everything alright?”

Shirabu looked like he’s been caught off-guard for a second, shoulders hunched, eyes wide and frantic. “Yes? Yes. I mean…” he cleared his throat, averting his gaze, “yes.”

He frowned, carefully recalling Semi’s lesson on how to identify when someone was lying. “Did Yamagata upset you? I can talk to him if it’s a concern.”

“No!” Shirabu, to his surprise, looked him straight in the eye, hands coming up in a placating gesture. “No, it’s just a joke.”

“I believe jokes are meant to evoke a more positive reaction.”

Shirabu shook his head. “It’s nothing, really.” 

Ushijima drew back a little, still debating the propriety of insisting, but Shirabu ducked his head slightly, a stuttered little bow, hand coming up to brush his bangs back. It was an odd little habit, considering his hair just fell back over his forehead barely a second after.

“Thank you though, Ushijima-san.” He said, and the smile he offered seemed sincere enough. Even with his extremely rusty ability to read the atmosphere he supposed he could see that much, but before he could respond, Tendou’s voice echoed from the stairwell.

“Hey! Dib system on who gets what futon!”

Like lightning, Soekawa and Yamagata were already out the door, Kawanishi whizzing by in a blur of blonde hair. Shirabu had also stood up, but remained where he was, staring down at him and looking extremely panicked and conflicted.

Ushijima only shrugged. “I honestly do not see why I need to fight for sleeping space. I would be fine sleeping next to any of you.”

Shirabu’s face relaxed, softened back to the quiet dignity Ushijima had grown used to, and together, they waited out the chaos in silence.

When they arrived downstairs, Ushijima saw that everyone—spare Reon, Semi and Tendou, who would be sleeping in Reon’s bedroom—had already sat on a futon in some odd definition of ‘claiming’, leaving two side-by-side ones vacant. Again, strange. Usually everyone fought for the futon against the wall.

“You can pick. I’ll take the remaining futon.” He told Shirabu, whose face was suddenly frozen in a muted sort of horror.

He walked stiffly, sitting himself down on the futon right beside the wall, and as he did so, Tendou burst with laughter, grabbing his middle and sinking against Semi, who also looked like he was biting back his laughter.

“Fuck. Fuck this is too good.” Tendou cackled. “Have fun sleeping _between a rock and a hard place_ , kid.”

In the span of a blink, a pillow had gone from Shirabu’s futon right onto Tendou’s face, cutting him off mid-laugh.

In the span of another blink, pillows were now simultaneously flying every which way, accompanied by various sounds of amusement or pain, but nothing too concerning.

Ushijima sighed inwardly, and contented himself, once again, with not knowing what on earth was going on.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Kakizome** is the first calligraphy written at the beginning of a year. We burn it afterwards and if your kakizome flies high it means your handwriting will get better (lol wow thanks gods).
> 
> Shirabu's kakizome: 能ある鷹爪隠す = Nou aru taka tsume kakusu = A skilled hawk hides its talons.
> 
> Also: am I ever going to stop making the entirety of Shiratorizawa a bunch of ushishira shippers? Nope. Not likely. Just imagine them as the muses in Hercules. (no just kidding I swear)


End file.
